Chapter 133

The moment Gwendolyn handed the slippers to Adrian and Vivian, she couldn't resist asking, "The physicians have been waiting, Mr. Blackwood. May I know what brings you here today?"

Adrian's face twisted with barely concealed contempt. Ethan shot Gwendolyn a warning look, his voice cutting like ice. "Mind your own business." He didn't wait for her reaction before striding into the parlor.

Switching seamlessly to German, he addressed the medical team. "The examination room is upstairs. Follow me."

Gwendolyn lingered for only a second before retreating to her quarters. Her fingers flew across her phone: "Mr. Blackwood returned with Vivian and several doctors. They've gone upstairs and barred me from following. Situation unclear."

The reply came instantly: "Maintain surveillance. Report any developments immediately."

In the second-floor medical suite, a female physician carefully lifted Vivian's sweater. The angry bruise spread across her porcelain skin like spilled ink, subcutaneous bleeding visible beneath the swelling. Though not life-threatening, the injury looked alarmingly painful.

Vivian sat motionless as a doll, her gaze distant while the doctor applied medication. The Vivian of old would have been sobbing dramatically, seeking Adrian's comfort with exaggerated pouts. That version of her had vanished in the fire's aftermath.

Even when she'd burned her foot at Cascade Residences, her initial cry had quickly dulled into indifference once Adrian noticed. He used to mock her theatrics. Now that she'd changed, his expected relief never came.

After initial treatment, another doctor approached with advanced scanning equipment.

"Mrs. Blackwood," he said gently, "could you roll up your trousers? We need to examine your burn recovery." Only then did Vivian realize Adrian had specifically arranged this examination for her scars. She lowered her lashes, concealing the flicker in her eyes. This was typical Adrian - obsessively practical, a trait she'd once foolishly mistaken for affection.

Following a comprehensive evaluation, the lead physician reported to Adrian. "Mrs. Blackwood's healing progresses exceptionally well. The regenerative ointment not only repairs scar tissue but stimulates cellular renewal. Within months, the marks will be nearly invisible."

"Months?" Adrian's brow darkened.

The doctor remained patient. "Given the depth and extent of her injuries, this recovery speed is remarkable. Accelerating further risks complications."

Adrian crossed his arms. "Surely you've developed something more effective."

An elderly specialist stepped forward. "Mr. Blackwood, healing requires time. While experimental subcutaneous treatments exist, they carry risks without guaranteeing better results than current methods. Sometimes tradition outperforms innovation."

Adrian's relentless focus on efficiency confirmed Vivian's suspicion - this wasn't about her wellbeing, but about efficiently solving another problem with his endless resources. To him, the world operated on transactional logic where money greased every wheel. If something resisted, it simply required more financial pressure.

Breaking the tension, Vivian spoke calmly. "It's fine. A bit of makeup will cover it for filming."